


Stories from Olympus

by miabria



Category: Greek Mythology, Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Greek Mythology - Freeform, Greek Myths, Greek gods, Other, stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 02:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10981545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miabria/pseuds/miabria
Summary: The gods get bored, which really isn't uncommon for them. However, this time, they can't think of a single thing that sounds entertaining. Until, that is, Apollo suggests they share their favorite stories about mortals they've encountered. Here are some of the more famous Greek stories as told by the Olympians.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on a request I got on fanfiction.net. I was asked to write a story about King Midas using inspiration from both the myths and the Let's Pretend episode based on that myth. I enjoyed the idea of story telling, so I decided that the gods would tell some of their favorite myths involving mortals, and this is what happened. Enjoy!

It was a typical day up on Mount Olympus. Typical, that is, in terms of the gods. In reality, they were much like humans, only superpowered, and much like humans, they got bored. Usually when the gods got bored, they would stir up some trouble down on earth and cause the humans some misery. Today, however, the thought just seemed unappealing, and everyone thought so. 

The twelve main gods of Olympus sat in their respected thrones in a semi-circle around the main throne room area of the palace that loomed over the rest of the olympian community. Some of the gods were speaking amongst themselves; a particularly heated conversation seemed to be underway between Artemis and Athena over hunting strategies. After finally becoming aggravated of the boredom, Zeus suggest someone come up with an idea to relive it. 

Ares seemed hellbent on having a competition between the gods to determine which of the twelve really was the strongest.

“Like the Olympic games, but way better!” He bellowed excitedly. The gods seemed to have little enthusiasm for the idea, but many shrugged anyway, agreeing that it was better than doing nothing. “I think we should start with me against Athena,” Ares continued, “She always acts like she’s so much better than me when it comes to war.”

“While I admire a friendly challenge,” Athena retorted, “Let us not forget what happened to Arachne when she boasted that she was better than me.”

A few snickers came from a few of the gods, but Apollo looked thoughtful as Athena said those words. Arachne. It was a good story. An entertaining story.

“I have an idea,” he spoke up. Naturally, he held everyone’s attention. “A common way for mortals to entertain themselves is to tell each other stories about us. Perhaps we could entertain each other by recounting our favorite stories about the mortals. Arachne’s story, for example.”

The gods seemed incredibly enthused by Apollo’s idea. Athena looked pleased as well.

“I always appreciate a well told tale,” she mused, “Very well. Apollo should start, then, since it was his idea.”

Everyone agreed and looked expectantly at the sun god.

Apollo sat in silence for a moment, thinking of a good tale to tell. He finally came across an idea.

“I shall tell the tale of when I lost a music competition to the satyr god Pan,” he announced to everyone, “And to tell it, I will have to start with the tale of Midas and the Golden Touch.”


	2. King Midas and the Golden Touch

“Alright, is everyone listening?” Apollo looked around him and saw that he did in fact have the gods’ undivided attention. “Good. I’m sure you all remember Midas. Not a bad guy, but greedy for anything gold. I’m pretty sure he even named his daughter Marigold.”

“You’re pretty sure?” Aphrodite interrupted.

“Look, I don’t remember all the details exactly,” Apollo defended himself, “So just bear with me.

“So Midas had this daughter named Marigold and she was beautiful and kind and your typical mortal princess. Everyone adored her, but she had the fortune of not being as pretty as Aphrodite, so she wasn’t cursed or anything.” A few of the gods snickered and Aphrodite looked pleased with herself. Apollo continued, “Midas’s daughter was his pride and joy and the only thing he loved more than her was his gold. He couldn’t seem to get enough of it. 

“‘Oh, if only there was some way to get more gold faster,’ Midas complained. He had an alchemist in his castle who was trying to turn lead into gold, but he never had any luck with his experiments. Midas was terribly distressed about his situation.”

“Foolish mortals,” Athena piped in, “Always wanting more than they have instead of being grateful for their fortune. Turning lead into gold. Ha! I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Many mortals seem fascinated with the idea,” Hephaestus added, “but it can’t be done.”

The gods argued on the possibilities of turning lead into gold until Apollo finally cleared his throat and called for their attention. “Let’s get back to my story, shall we?

“As I was saying, Midas was unhappy because he didn’t have enough gold. His daughter noticed the king’s distressed and attempted to cheer him up.

“‘The flowers are lovely this afternoon, father,’ Marigold stated, ‘Perhaps a walk through the gardens will bring some cheer to you.’

“‘What good are the flowers to me if they aren’t gold,’ the king replied.

“‘Please father, some fresh air may do some good for you.’

“‘Very well,’ the king finally consented to his daughters wishes. The two of them left the palace to stroll through the gardens. At some point in their stroll, they noticed a satyr passed out amongst the roses. The satyr was none other than Silenus, Dionysus’s old schoolmaster. He had gotten himself drunk and wandered off. Midas recognized the satyr and treated him with hospitality. Silenus stayed with Midas for ten days. Midas provided food and drink while Silenus entertained the king with songs and stories.”

“I’m sure the stories were better told than yours,” Artemis joked, “and the songs better sung.”

Apollo glared at his sister as the other gods laughed. He waited for them to quiet down, annoyed at being interrupted again.

“Anyway,” Apollo continued, “Silenus stayed with Midas until the king brought him back to Lydia where Dionysus was. Now, our young, wine-loving friend here was so rejoiced at having his friend return, that he offered Midas whatever he wished as a reward.”

“Midas asked for the golden touch,” Dionysus said, “we know. Do you have to tell this whole story just to cry about how Pan beat you in a music competition?”

“Yes, what’s the connection?” Demeter asked.

“I’m getting there! You all agreed you wanted to hear a story, so why are you complaining now?” Apollo waited for someone to answer, but no one did. “Fine then. If you would all be so kind as to stop interrupting, we could get on with the story.

“As Dionysus said, Midas asked him for a power that would allow anything he touched to turn into gold. Delighted by his newfound gift, Midas was eager to try it out. He touched a tree branch and it turned to gold. He touched a rock an it too turned to gold. Midas rushed back home and pranced through the rose garden, touching every single flower and turning each into solid gold. 

“He was so delighted, he ordered his servants to prepare a feast so that they may celebrate. When he tried to drink from his cup, which he had turned to gold, he noticed the wine, too, had turned to gold. He tried to bite into a piece of meat, but the second his mouth touched it, it turned to gold. Midas realized that because of his gift, he may very well starve to death.

“Moments later, Midas’s daughter came rushing into the dinning hall, upset that the flowers in the garden had grown hard and lost their fragrance. When Midas reached out to comfort her, she, too, turned into solid gold.

“Wracked with grief, Midas prayed to Dionysus and pleaded that he tack back the golden touch. Dionysus agreed and told King Midas to wash himself in the river Pactolus and that afterward, whatever he touched with the waters would be cured of the golden curse.”

“The golden curse?” Aphrodite questioned with a snicker. “That’s rather… melodramatic.”

“When has my brother not been melodramatic?” Artemis retorted.

Apollo glared at his sister once again and then at Aphrodite. “Ok, seriously,” he chided, “do you want me to finish this story or not?”

Aphrodite gave a wave of her arm for Apollo to continue.

“So Midas bathed himself in the Pactolus river and as he did so, the water turned the sand beaches golden. Midas brought back with him a bowl of the water and sprinkled some on the roses he had turned to gold. He poured the rest of the water on his daughter, and rejoiced as she was returned to the way she had been.

“Now disgusted with wealth and gold, Midas and his daughter moved to the country, where they become worshippers of Pan for some reason.” Apollo gave a look of disgust before continuing, “So Midas would often wander into the forests of the countryside and happened to come across a dispute between myself and Pan. Pan believed he could play his reeds better than I could my lyre. I am the god of music, so in all honesty I should have won that competition. 

“Anyway, we asked Midas to judge and after he heard both of us play, he decided Pan’s musical abilities were the best. He obviously had the ears of an ass if he thought such a thing, so that’s what I gave him. Donkey ears. That taught him to go against a major deity.

“Midas, mortified by his fate, as he should be, tried to cover his ears with a headdress. Of course, his barber knew the secret, but was instructed to tell no one. And. like every mortal, the barber could not keep it to himself. So he went into the meadow, dug a hole, and whispered the story into the hole. In that meadow are a think bed of reeds—“

“And now all the reeds do is whisper how Midas has an ass’s ears.” Demeter said, displeased.

“Yup,” Apollo said triumphantly, “then he drank the blood from an ox and died.”

“What a horrible ending!” Aphrodite called, “It’s not nearly dramatic enough.”

“It’s more of a comedy, sweetheart,” Apollo replied, “The guy had the ears a donkey!”

“Well, I have a better story to tell,” Aphrodite said, he voice daring anyone to keep her quiet.

“And what story might that be?” Athena asked.

Aphrodite seemed pleased with herself when she replied, “The story of Adonis.”


End file.
